Regrets
by iTeiwaz
Summary: Things they regretted, things they didn't regret. Things that should and shouldn't have been done. Rated T to be safe. (No pairing, possibly not ever.) IN THE PROCESS OF BEING REWRITTEN.
1. Chapter One

The dull light filtering through the drawn shades was fading fast, the heavy incense in the air making it hard for her to breathe. Three times she had been in this room, and three times she had left without asking what she really wanted to ask. The woman opposite her was withdrawn, cloaked in red hues and purple streaks. The shawl wrapped around her shoulders hid any definition to her form. From where she sat, the witch looked like a short, squat phoney. But this wasn't the truth and they both knew it.

"Are you finally going to ask your question, dear?"

"I always ask my questions. I just have many of them."  
>"Oh my dear," a voice, cracking with age, but brimming with wisdom whispered back at her. "You ask many things, but not questions. You ask for things that have nothing to do with you, you ask not your question." A white eyebrow raised, seeming to disappear behind the endless tresses of hair that started white and faded to a honey blonde. As if the woman had stopped cutting her hair, and her hair itself was a badge of the time spent to her craft.<p>

A nervous laugh erupted from the girl, her facial expression twisting into something the witch wasn't sure of. "Okay then," voice high with nerves caused her to stop, clear her throat and continue. "What is my fortune?"

"Ahhh, what a question. Of what fortune do you seek to know?"

"Oh I don't know, my future?" Nerves gone, the young girl the witch was more familiar with sprang back. Sarcasm leaked from every pore of her body, her aura darkened for a split second then returned to it's neutral hues.

"There are many futures dear, and I cannot tell you all of them. There simply isn't enough time in your lifespan. Even so, why would you wish to know something that can change at any moment?"

"Don't you use cards or read palms or something?" Annoyance fluttered around the edges of the girls aura and the dark coloring returned. "Or a crystal ball or, or something?" The witch sat up straight and frowned before standing and moving to leave the room. "Where are you going!?" Pausing the witch raised a hand, staying the girls outburst. Moving across the room at a pace elegant for one so aged she returned moments later with a pouch.

"Very well." She murmured, "I will consult the runes." Closing her eyes, the witch began an incantation faster than anything the girl had ever heard. In a language strange, impossible to recreate no matter how hard she tried. Yet, she felt she should know it. Opening her eyes once more the bag was tossed into the air and caught deftly. Reaching into the bag the witch placed three wood tiles on the table. She tutted and then traced the patterns. "Ahh, difficulties lie in your path my dear, see here," The witch pointed to a tile with two intersecting lines, one tall, the other small and angled. "This is Nauthiz: constraint, necessity and pain. There will be many obstacles you face, most of your own doing-"  
>"Why would I make my own life difficult?" The words were spat as the girl stood up, "Runes, really? Like they're reliable at all." She made to turn away when she felt herself stop. The room dropped in temperature and suddenly the incense wasn't as oppressive as before. A gust of wind, chilly and tinged with the scent of fire flew past, the girl whipped back around. The witch stood, her eyes blazed with fury.<p>

"You. Will. Sit." So the girl sat, stunned, she had known the witch was no fake, but this display of power was different than the subtle spells she usually used. The witch too, sat. "As I was saying, you will be your own worst enemy, and you must not take this personally. There are dark forces in your subconscious, they fight with you, cause you to doubt and question yourself. This leads to self-imposed obstacles. You will feel the pain of each obstacle as you meet it, and the joy you feel when you have overcome it. All this is necessary." The witch looked up from her runes and gave a soft smile. "This is not a bad thing my dear. Look here," She pointed now to a rune with a crude but sharp R carved into it. This, this is good dear, this is Raido. Journey, communication and reunion. You will take yourself upon a journey one day, a pilgrimage of sorts, and you will begin to finally heal after all the suffering that had been caused to you. You will feel rejuvenated as you and your inner self finally communicate to each other and reunite as one. Relationships that have been neglected will heal, you, my dear, will heal.

"But destiny is not predetermined my dear, it changes as we do, and everything we do effects those around us. This tile here is Odin, commonly known as the unknowable." The tile was blank and the girl wasn't sure what to make of it. "It means that you have been given many opportunities, and as always, there is never a guarantee of success or failure. We all set our own destinies dear." The witch scooped the tiles back up and dropped them into the bag, standing once more to return them to the other side of the room, thrown haphazardly between bundles of herbs. The witch turned once again and the girl, for a split second, saw a flash of one much younger, with golden hair and red eyes, garbed in purple and black, a broom in hand, before the old woman was once more. She again cocked an eyebrow.

"What does it mean?"

"In simple terms my dear, it means that you have a journey ahead. You will face many challenges, and how you face them will determine your success." For a long time the witch observed the young girl, woman really, she was too old to be a girl. Her brown hair was showing at her roots, a red to bright to be natural coloring the rest of her hair. Streaks of dark make-up adorned her round face, several rings studded her ears, nose and brow. Several hoops protruded from her lip. When she finally stood, she held herself in a way the witch had not seen in a long time. It was an air of confidence intermingled with fear, one familiar. "My dear, what is your name?"

The young woman looked at her for a moment, "Molly." She turned to leave again before the witch stopped her.

"That is what you call yourself dear, what is your name?" When the girl stared blankly at her, the witch sent her aura after the girls, twisting and twirling in it. The girls aura flared in return and attacked hers just as viciously. Feelings, flickers of recognition ignited throughout her body, she did know the girl, had always known the girl. The younger woman shook her head and left as the words fell from the witches lips. "Cefia!?"

Several days later Molly found herself seated across from her parents, fury and worry radiated respectively. She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth and let out an aggravated sigh. The little red sprite to her side quivered in fear. "What were you thinking!? Going to the mainland for a blasphemous festival? Look what they did to you! They chopped your hair off Molly! What do those tattoos even mean?!" Chelsea Manns voice raised and lowered in pitch, fury lashing out from every word.

"Oh shut up. Like you can lecture me. You ran away from home at fifteen to start a farm and from what I hear married dad a year later. For someone with such screwy morals you have a lot of nerve yelling at me for going to a festival. If I remember correctly they happen on these islands all the time!"

"We know these people! They are our neighbors and the Harvest Goddess is much different than this!" Her mother gestured to all of her, the black jeans, ripped tee and smell of smoke. It all seemed to be on the forefront of her mothers mind. "What were you thinking? What will our friends think!?"

"Why is this always about what the neighbors think?"

"What is that supposed to mean!?"

"It means when I was nine I couldn't believe in the Harvest Sprites without you threatening to throw me into an institution. It means that I'm allowed to be religious to a point and it's gotten ridiculous! Everything I do, you act as if all of it is an attack against you. This is just me, mom! Even now I can't do anything without you flipping out, especially over the neighbors!"

"You have been the most difficult child I have ever seen. Do you see any other kids your age saying Harvest Sprites are real? Putting holes in their faces or chopping off their hair!?"

"It's not your body and I'm eighteen! I can do what I want!"

"Then you can get out!"

Molly stopped and stared at her mother before standing and storming up the stairs. Crashing sounds were heard before a younger man came down the stairs. "She's kinda ripping apart our room." Was offered up as an explanation as to why he was still up at such a late hour. Profanities spewed from the above floor and as Chelsea stood to lash out some more the stomps on the stairs stopped her. Her daughter once again reappeared, coat over bag and another slung over her shoulder. She sneered at her mother.

"See ya." As she slammed the door behind her a new fight broke out. The words of her mother were clear, her fathers unheard. Not that Shea ever had much to say. Wiping tears from her eyes Molly walked through the quiet town. No lights were on and everyone else must have been asleep. She sniffed and wiped her eyes dry, refusing to be weak, it would only prove her mother right. Soon, she stood at the docks and was waiting. It took some time but she heard footsteps and a frown marred her face as she turned. Shea stood opposite and looked her over.

"You grew up."

"Nice of you to notice." Fury Molly didn't realize she felt rose up and she unleashed everything weighing on her mind. "I'm only your daughter though, right? Not as important as Kasey, right? Another man around the house to help you out and do all kinds of things with? Just like Wada? Huh? Going hunting, and out to the jungles you were born in? How come I've never been there?" At this point, the tears had started to trickle down her face, and fury lead away to desperation. "Why am I still not good enough for you to notice me?"

He frowned, ridges in his forehead deepening. "What are you doing Molly?"

Molly sneered, "Leaving, what does it look like?"

"Molly..." He trailed off, anguish written across his face. "You don't have to do this... Come home."

"You know, your English is better dad, but your grasp on this situation still needs some work. She doesn't want me there." Molly glared at her father. "Is it because I'm a woman? Is that why you don't get me?"

"Molly, I want you home. Isn't that enough?"

"No, and it never will be." A foghorn blew a loud sound and the sounds of overlapping waves filled Molly's ears, drowning out what Shea said next. As the boat docked a man with tanned skin waved from the deck. Molly walked towards him, to the ship and only stopped to rip her arm out of Shea's grip. Then she boarded the ship and mock-saluted her father. "Going to try to stop me?" She yelled over the next foghorns blow. He only smiled at her.

"When I was young," He said during the next pause, "I left home, left the jungle, Wada, everything I knew. It was my decision, but one journey I needed to take." He looked down for a few moments, then back up at her, "This is merely your journey. I came back to Wada, you'll come back to me." As the foghorn blew once more Shea turned and left, the wind ruffling his hair.

"So, where are you headed?" Squeaked a voice from her side.

Molly turned to the red sprite on her left and smiled at him, then holding him in her hand, dropped him over the edge of the ship. She heard a small splash and saw him struggling to the surface, he feebly floated above the waves and latched onto the closest solid thing, the dock. Molly watched as he attempted to flap the water weighing down his wings out. She turned to the other on the deck. "I'm going back to the mainland."

He nodded and smiled at her, "Going on a trip?"

"Something like that."

"Well, after Vaughn shows up we can go."

"Alright." Molly walked over to the boathouse and sat herself down on the floor. The trip took an hour at least, and she wanted sleep. If Vaughn wanted to wake her up, he was shit out of luck, she wasn't talking to him. She leaned against the wood of the house and let her mind wander, it was going to be a long night. She'd need somewhere to stay when she got to the mainland, and definitely need to get a job. As her thoughts turned in circles she feel into a light sleep. She dreamed of nothing she could remember and only woke to the sounds of the waves being drowned out by the footfalls of someone surefooted. She heard them stop in front of her. She opened one eye to look at the man above her. He offered her a frown, then walked towards the opposite side of the ship. Once again Molly closed her eyes, letting her conscience slip away.

_An old man stood, smiling down at her, offering his hand, and leading her around the farm. She could hear herself asking questions and the old man above her answering them and chuckling. He showed her all around the farm, an impressive amount of land. Rows and rows of corn appeared in front of her, and she remembered spending several days running through them. She saw cows, sheep, all larger than her, fluffier than any she could remember, and she remembered feeling wonder as this old man, she somehow knew as her grandfather, kept her with him._

_Before she left, he pleaded with her to tell her father to let her visit more. He said he knew times were tough, but family was supposed to come first. But something was wrong, he kept calling her sonny._

_Images melded past, remembrances of old styled kitchens and parents arguing over spending money neither of them had. As faces and seasons past her by she suddenly saw herself looking in a mirror, and seeing a boys face. Brown hair, brown eyes, she-or rather he-wore a baseball cap, turned backwards. The contents of the room behind her changed with each blink, became old and new and somehow hers. The boy whose eyes she saw out of was suddenly a man, and still listening to his parents argue. This time over a death in the family, the old man, the only one who had seemed to really care. So the man waited until the lights were out downstairs and left._

_Time skips by and he's, she's? They are on a dock much different to the one on Sunshine. Older, rickety, the man walks the length of the rotted boards to a man in suit so out of place in the dusty background. Mayor Thomas he calls himself._

_"Jack." She hears herself offer up._

_Time forwards and suddenly she is out of Jack's body. She feels like she is a million miles away from him, but next to him all at once. He is uncertain and wary at first. The only people he trusts himself to talk to are the people who run the animal shops. Even then, he keeps his distance. It's over three years before he allows himself to mingle with the townsfolk. The first time he attends a festival, she can see the wonder on his face. Several girls giggle at him, he smiles nervously in return. He has just been told the reason this festival is being held._

_Molly finds herself overcome with a crippling sense of jealousy, but it's stronger than anything she's ever felt. She has the sudden vision of being alone forever, a bitter jealousy towards all the humans she is supposed to bless. Water cascades around her and suddenly the roar of a waterfall stops any coherent thought from entering her mind. The water stops churning, and becomes so clear it is a mirror and a window all at once. Molly sees the rocks across from the waterfall, but sees her reflection as well. Green hair braids itself down her back, thrown up into several intersecting buns, her tresses seem endless. Her eyes are suddenly too clear, the color of water, and her face is whiter than porcelain, her figure so small and lithe. Garbed in a robe the lightest of blues, she feels trapped in the water, feels as if she is the water. She is there, but invisible too._

_Feelings and time pass by, and Jack, having been told of the goddess, comes to make an offering. The first in many, many years. She ignores him at first, but he is persistent. He comes at midday and sits, offering many things; fruits, vegetables, even setting flowers from high in the mountains on the water to float across the endless river. He talks to her, as if he can see her and when she bothers to look up through the water, he is looking right at her. He smiles, and asks for her name._

_In that moment, the Harvest Goddess feels like a person again, not just the woman who gave her life to feed the ground so many years ago. She sees Jack, and then sees herself. So she stands, making to rise out of the water before she remembers herself. She will outlive him. There is no point. She turns away from Jack, not seeing the confusion across his face. She hears the splashes of him entering the stream but only when his hand closes on her wrist does she turn towards him. He is looking through to her and he smiles. Air bubbles from his nose and he lets go of her to kick back up to the surface. He takes several deep breaths, but before he can dive down again, her head peeks above the surface. She looks to the left of her, a forget-me-not floats by and she plucks it from the water._

_"I am the Harvest Goddess, and your offering is one I appreciate." He opens his mouth to say something, maybe ask another question, but she lets herself fall into the water, lets the current send her away._

_Over the next months she watches him carefully. He visits her often, telling her of his plights with the other village men. How he and the friends he has found plan to conquer the hearts of their beloved. He speaks of fantastic plans and starry night dinners. Mentions all types of names and couples, spends a lot of time on a man named Gray, and his stubbornness. The deity finds herself smiling at him more, asking questions about these loves. She finds herself spending more time out of the water than in it._

_When she finally asks him about his own beloved, he looks at her and smiles, saying he hasn't quite been able to catch her. She asks why but he will not speak of it. So she asks of his farm instead. He asks is she would like to see it, and she does._

_More time is spent on the land, seeing the animals, feeling the crops and herbs he gives as offerings. He tells her she can have anything she wants. She thanks him and they both turn as a name is called. A man in white work clothes jogs over and after looking at her for a moment turns to Jack. A birth he says, is imminent, but something is wrong. Frowns and worry cover Jacks face and he asks about a Mary. Jack and Gray both run towards the hospital, the Goddess finds herself following at a slower pace. When she arrives, the people look at her and stare._

_Jack asks her a question she doesn't hear and she approaches the bed. A woman with mousy black hair is sweating, in labor and in pain. Walking around the bed, she touches the forehead of the woman, and in a language long forgotten, blesses her. Stepping back, she allows the doctor and nurse to finish what they started. She moves back to Jack and nods, before going to leave. Before she can the man in white is in front of her. Ginger hair and blue eyes stare hard at her, scrutinizing her. Holding herself in a regal manor, she raises her chin, lifting an eyebrow. Fear she had forgotten creeps up her spine. She hadn't been around humans in a long time._

_"You must be her." The Goddess tilts her head to him, quizzical. He, Gray, she realizes now, just smiles at her. "The girl Jack's head over heels for." She feels as if she has been slapped and looks over at Jack._

_Jack who is suddenly red faced and not meeting her eyes. She hears the quiet laughter of those gathered around, suddenly drowned out by the cries of mother and baby. As the family runs to see how they are doings, she lifts Jack's face to meet hers. He is afraid, but smiles. "I just haven't caught you yet." Even softer, "I can't even get your name."_

_As she holds his hand, as they are married days later and joined as one, she finally tells him something he had spent weeks begging for. "Cefia."_

As the boat docks, a bump jolts Molly awake, and for a moment she is hazy with the fog of sleep. Shaking her head at the remnants of a dream she leaves the ship and surveys her surroundings. Vaughn makes to guide her somewhere and she pulls away from him to go her own way. "I don't need a babysitter." He frowns at her, and she starts walking away. "I'll be fine on my own."


	2. Chapter Two

Waking up was always the worst part of her day. Forcing her eyes open and realizing that whatever she had set out to do all those years back, she still hadn't done, was the worst way for Molly to start her day. Sometimes she just closed her eyes again and went back to sleep. Days where she worked all night and slept all day, doing nothing in between were common. No human contact was easiest. Forcing herself up however, Molly ran through her routine. Hair brushed, teeth cleaned, clothes on, bag packed and slung across her shoulder.

A soft breath escaped her lips as a pair of familiar arms wrapped around her. "Where ya goin'?"

Leaning her head back, Molly let herself melt for a second. Just a second. Pulling herself away from the man she'd been with for three years, she turned around. "Away."

"Again?"

"I won't be back this time." He frowned, the ridges on his forehead seemed to stand out as worry lines and she came to the realization that Calvin no longer had as many laugh lines as he used to. _Did I do that?_

"Why not?"

"Bought a ranch, I won't tell you where." _You'll just follow me there._ "I can't just work overnights at the supermarket for the rest of my life. Busting my ass for minimum wage. Ranching I can do, it's in my blood. I've got this."

"Who are ya tryin' to convince?" Level headed, that was Calvin. Dependable and predictable. Treasure hunter, archeologist, grave robber. He sighed though, arms already crossing his chest, the sunlight making his blonde hair lighter. Blue eyes seeming to pierce through the shadows of the curves and plains of his face, throwing accusations. He sat back against the wall and waited for her to explain. "Do you really have nothin' here worth stayin' for?" _Subtle._

Molly turned away again, pulling her keyring out, pulling off the apartment key. She set it on the hook next to his. "I told you when this, whatever it is started, I'd leave one day."

"You've always come back." His normally soft but sure voice wavered, southern accent coming through stronger. A sign of weakness when referencing Calvin. She saw his crossed arms as something other than defiance then, but as a way to hold himself. He was shaking.

"Not this time." Opening the door and stepping out she closed it behind her, letting the finality of those actions hit her. She leaned against the door for a moment to gather herself but couldn't bring herself to leave for quite awhile.

When she did leave, she told herself it wasn't because of the heartbreaking sobs from the other side of the door. Calvin Hyde did not love her, he was just used to her.

Calling a cab over and directing him to the docks was easy, making sure the cabby took the shortest route was hard. Crooks, really, those cabbies. Watching stone buildings and neon signs flash by Molly wondered how big the island was. The ranch she bought sounded wonderful. A full barn and coop, finished house and quite a bit of land? If the photo was anything to go by, she was lucky someone else hadn't snatched it up.

Pulling into the docks she stepped out and paid the driver who then hauled out of the docks. As if the possibility of driving around a sailor was a sin. Molly rolled her eyes and walked up to the main ship, where a bigger man stood directing people around. Molly couldn't help but notice that a lot of the people were men, and the only woman she saw was herding a large amount of animals with her. She looked familiar.

"Where to?"

"Castanet."

He whistled, amused, "Good luck girlie. No one keeps that ranch." He looked her over and chucked again, "I won't charge you the return fee girl, I'll tell you that." He shook his head, still laughing. "Over there, it'll leave once you're on, good luck."

The boat he pointed to was small and old fashioned. Actually, it was just old in general. Suddenly the ad seemed less reliable. Stepping aboard she nodded to the captain, who must have been the captain because he was the only one on board besides her, and turned to watch the workers on the dock. The boat started and very slowly she was led out of the harbor. The woman appeared again and Molly was struck by how familiar she was, she couldn't place it though. There was nothing outstanding about her, really. Black hair was tucked under a baseball cap, work jeans were slung low over her hips as a black tank top started rising up, revealing pale skin underneath. As if sensing her gaze, she turned and stared right back at Molly.

Amethyst eyes widened and Molly took a step away from the railing as the girl, whose eyes she was named after yelled, "Molly!" The boat started to slow and as Molly looked over to the captain, he was watching her.

"Keep. Going." The man started, shocked by the venom of her voice but started up the boat again.

"Don't! Molly! Wait-DAD!" Turning to stare right at those purple eyes, the sound of running feet approached over the sound of the boats motor. The look on Vaughn's face would have been comical in any other situation. Fear and panic, shock overall.

"Molly Mann you get back here right now!" He yelled over the engines roar but Molly stood her ground. "Pascal! You stop that damned boat!" When the boat slowed this time, no amount of venomous glare could get the man to start it back up. To his credit he didn't try to back the boat up either.

"Molly?" His voice cracked with age.

Still glaring she let herself thunder. "Yes?" He looked her over, as if he couldn't fathom someone as straight laced as Vaughn yelling for someone as wild as her. Much like Vaughn the captain seemed to take himself a bit to seriously. White sailors uniform under an older cut captains jacket made him stand out, even among a group of captains. Much like Vaughn's cowboy attire. When he didn't answer she kept going. "Start. The Boat. Back. Up." Each word hissed out.

"That man has been looking for you for years missy."

"He can keep looking. Start the boat!" The man, Pascal, looked over to Vaughn helplessly but went back to the wheel. The boat roared to life and started out of the harbor. Vaughn continued to yell, mostly profanities, as the boat swept out and away from him. Molly finally leaned back against the railing, letting him get smaller and smaller.

The boat ride was uneventful after that. Molly felt Pascal looking at her from time to time but he never made to talk or comment to her. The waves went from violent to flat and eventually the boat was crawling along. She heard Pascal muttering about awful waves and an inability to go faster. He continued to get more into detail as she turned and watched him work, as he had watched her think. Not that there was much to think about. Eventually Pascal popped out of the boats gears and mechanisms. "This is going to take awhile. With the waves disagreeing with us, it'll take a lot longer to get to Castanet." Molly raised her eyebrows, but shrugged.

Like he promised the rest of the boat ride was slow an uneventful. Gulls swooped overhead and cried out. Fish jumped in and out of the water and Molly could have sworn she saw a shark. The water slowly faded from a bright blue to a dark blue and she caught herself thinking about how much the dark water looked like Calvin's eyes. She wondered about him, he had sounded so put together, so sure when she left. But those sobs, if they were anything to go by said something else. She felt guilty, but she had warned him. Molly never stayed, but at the same time, she had never been able to stay away from him. He was stability and that was something she had always wanted. He didn't look at her and see piercings and tattoos, or dyed hair and black nails. He had seen her and she had loved it. He was dependable and didn't go half way on anything. She sighed then, _Calvin puts his heart into everything he does._ She remembered a tablet he had given her once, it had been engraved with the story of five bells of power. When rung they were said to have been beautiful and pure, and that they called not the Harvest Goddess, but the Mother Goddess. She hadn't understood that one, Calvin hadn't explained either, he had just looked at her like she was everything. _Had I been?_

As night approached, the island finally came into view, and it was well past dark by the time they finally docked. Molly stepped off the boat without a word and made her way to the Town Hall. The lights were off, the door was closed and it was locked. Looking to the hours she felt her lips curl. There was no way she was waiting to get to a ranch she already paid for, she could always replace the door if she had to break in. Rolling her eyes, she let herself look over the map. Turning right around she made her way out of the town, only pausing to look back once she was sure she'd be able to see all of it. She couldn't help but be shocked when she realized that it was smaller than her home town. She hadn't thought that was possible. A small gathering of houses lumped together haphazardly. Was that an observatory she saw? Blinking in surprise she turned back around and continued on to where her farm should be. The ad at the forefront of her mind; there was no way it could be believed.

Strolling along another beach, Molly let herself look over the waves, she could see the boat was still docked, and with the water flat it was obvious why. Hitching her bag higher on her shoulder, she turned and walked inland until she reached the path again. Several minutes later she crossed a small bridge and stopped.

A barn, a coop, a house and quite a bit of land. The only thing exaggerated was the state of it. The barn was the worst by far. Where the house was boarded up and the coop had been obviously downsized to stop the deterioration of the wood the barn had been left to rot. Half of it was caved in, making a new wall and the door was swinging off it's hinges.

"Oh dear." She really couldn't even think of what else to say. Closing her eyes, hoping that the ranch would look better after a couple of blinks she stared. It didn't look better, and it appeared as if a few boards had fallen off the barn since she first arrived. Flinching, she walked towards the house and pushed open the door. There wasn't even a handle.

The inside wasn't as bleak as the outside and was quite warm. Looking around, it had definitely seen better days. The wallpaper was peeling, the bed looked like it was covered in dust and the chest by the bedside table was missing quite a few bolts, well, those and the lid. She threw her bag onto the bed and watched the dust rise. Wrinkling her nose, she picked the bag back up and threw it on the bedside table. It wobbled, but didn't crash to the floor. Ripping all the sheets and blankets off the bed Molly let it all hit the floor. The bed didn't look infested and that was all she cared about at this point. She was out before her head hit the bed.

_ "___I must say," her voice is soft and sweet, much like her. "That I always thought you would marry Ignis."__

__ Cefia throws her head back and laughs, a hearty sound, full of life. "My dear, do you plan to marry Gale?" The absolutely disgusted look she is given speaks for itself. The dark skinned man in question is staring intently at Cefias two year old daughter. To her daughters credit she doesn't back down, merely continues pulling on the purple cloak around him. She is pointing to the white tattoos on his face, asking about them. But, true to his form, he never answers her. He hadn't spoken more than three words in her immortal lifetime.__

__ "No, never, Gale is the opposite of what I want in life." Her gaze is taken in by a man, a prince who looks as if he feels out of place. Dressed in finery, around immortals and on a farm perhaps he does. "Is he not wonderful? Everything I have ever wanted in a love." She waves over to him, he visibly relaxes. "Ridiculous name though." Cefia laughs, remembering the full name she was told. "William!"__

__ He steps forward, nervously around the flock of hens. He hesitates for a moment but sits on the porch steps next to his love. She sets her head on his shoulder and he closes his eyes, suddenly seeming less stoic and more carefree. "Have you heard from Ignis, Witch?"__

__ "No," the Witch shakes her head, "I have not heard from him since Vivi got it in her head that she could take his position and power from him."__

__ "Stupid girl, why was she granted immortality?"__

__ "Because she was willing to sacrifice her life to save him, the same reason we were all granted immortality." The Witch pauses, "Come to think of it, I have not heard from her either."__

__ "Is that... necessarily a bad thing, my love? You do not like her." Prince William, with the voice of an angel speaks up, looking wary but curious. The Witch smiles and shrugs, seeing no point in commenting. The prince turns his gaze to Cefia, "May I make a personal inquiry?"__

__ Cefia could feel herself taking an amused look. The Witch was right, when the poor boy was nervous he did go right back to what she had dubbed his 'prince-mode'. Complete manners, blank look, no depth to him. Still, she was curious. Tilting her head to the side, she nodded.__

__ "You are the Harvest Goddess, so how... how did the Harvest God make you immortal? Are you not as, uh, omnipotent as he?"__

__ "What a polite way to ask my age." A dusting of red crossed the princes face and he made to reply, however a stuttering choke was all that came out. "Oh dear! Calm down now, I'm only joking." She smiled, showing the rows of perfect teeth. "No, I was not always immortal. When I was little, the Harvest God was worshiped as the bringer of life, and the friend of death. There were some people that feared him though, and made war to the Earth."__

__ "Why... why would they make war to the Earth?" Curious, but polite. Looking to the other side of her, Cefia smiled at her daughter. __

__ "Well," patting her lap, she let her daughter plop down. She eyed Gale, who had moved well into the distance. "Well... There is a story, from so long ago... The story went that when the Earth was first made, and the Harvest God walked among the people, he was known as Fire. Simple and clean, an element. He would appear and disappear in flame. Animals did not fear this fire, and it never burned anyone, for he was everything that was good in the world. But he was everything that was bad. When a child, small and new came to the world, he delivered it's soul. When an elder, old and wrinkled left this world, he journeyed with them to the afterlife. Over time, as more people journeyed to see this God-like man, fear began. Instead of seeing him as one who would journey with the dead, he was seen as one who killed them. New people, dressed in strange clothes came and accused him of what they called devilry. Ever the kind God he was, he did not try to hurt them, nor influence them in any way. When he appeared in flame, they tried to cover him in water. When he went to visit the dying, they attempted to catch him unawares. They would throw round metal at him, and curse his name. They were afraid."__

__ "Were you?" Her small voice piped up, and Cefia laughed.__

__ "Oh no little one, for I had seen the Harvest God for what he was. He journeyed with me from the heavens to my mother, he cared for my scrapes and bruises. Chased away the dark when I was little. He is and always was a good man."__

__ "Then why did they hurt the Earth?" Such an inquisitive two year old.__

__ "It came to the attention of the newcomers, that there was a man who did not revere the Harvest God as we did, and he was sought out." As if he knew what was coming, Gale turned from where he was listening to Jack about a variety of herbs he was growing. "A Wizard they called him, Star-Watcher. Where the Harvest God was the sun, this man was the Moon." Gale's eyes darkened, his eyes flicking to the entrance of the farm that they lounged near, to the exit all the way on the other side. "When the newcomers found this man, they asked him 'What does it take to kill the Fire King?' and the man said 'Have you tried water?'." A small eruption of undignified laughter left the Prince and Cefia understood why the Witch was with him. "'Yes.' they said, 'How do we stop him?'. 'If he is one with the Earth, it is only natural to assume that the Earth is what makes him strong.' the Wizard said. He had no quarrel with my village or the Earth and did not know why these men asked such questions. 'What makes you think you can kill this Fire King?' He asked the newcomers. 'We will kill him if it the last thing we do.' They promised the Wizard. They left the Wizard soon after, leaving him to his stars and runes. A million questions in his mind.__

__ "Then the men attacked. Burning trees, destroying houses. They waged war on the mountain," At this Cefia pointed to Mothers Hill, "that we had all been born on. The mountain the signified our peoples life and death. Distraught, my people ran, attempting to find the Element, the Harvest God that had always protected them. When he could not be found, the war continued, and my people were all but lost."__

__ "What happened!?" Excited and completely enthralled, her daughter blinked slowly up at her. Once more Cefia found Gale on the fields. He was no longer pretending to pay attention to Jack and was staring intently back at her. As if sensing the silent battle, Jack took a step back and slowly made his way to his wife. __

__ "The Harvest God appeared, finally, and told the newcomers to leave. They did not, they instead attempted to bring physical harm to the God. They burned the ground around him and killed the Earth near him. Even when they were not around him, they harmed the nature, the animals, all in attempts to kill the God. There was a young woman who saw this and hated it. The animals were pure and nature had done nothing to them. On a journey through the woods she came across the newcomers caging birds of the purest blue. When they had them all gathered, they made to set fire to them." Cefia closed her eyes, and let the memory take her over. "The woman could not let them do such a monstrous thing. With a battle cry, backed by her ancestors, she ran to the blaze and pulled as many birds as she could out. In anger, the men threw her into the fire, to stop her from interfering. That is when the Harvest God appeared before them. Ending the fire, he forced the newcomers away. Using powers I know not to make them leave. Every day they stayed illness took them. Food went bad, water turned their stomachs. Using the Earth that they had so abused, he forced them away. But, this girl, had she not gone with the cry of her ancestors would not have been heard. For she so loved the birds that sang she was unafraid of death. She was willing to give anything to protect them, through them the Earth, and through the Earth, The Harvest God himself. In return for such an act, he made her immortal. But she was more concerned with the birds she had saved. For they were the most beautiful things she had ever seen. When she saw that only a few had been saved she wept for the loss that she had not been able to prevent." Cefia opened her eyes then, looking into her daughters eyes, whose were the same shade of pure blue. "In recognition of her love of the birds the Harvest God too, made them immortal, their feathers the sign of true and everlasting love." She tapped her daughters nose at that.__

__ "Was that lady you mommy?" Gods above did she love her little girl.__

__ "Yes sweetheart, that lady was me." She whispered to her. Looking back over the fields, she was unsurprised to find that Gale was gone.__

Molly woke with a start the next day, the crunching of feet on gravel the only sign she wasn't alone. Groaning and picking herself up she opened the door and watched in amusement as an older man paced back and forth talking to a man driving a cart. "She should have been here already, and she wasn't at the inn. What if something happened?"

The man frowned, "Hamilton, calm down. The island isn't big enough to hide on," He caught sight of her and she raised an eyebrow, "Especially when she's right in front of you."

Whipping around the man, Hamilton scurried forward, "Oh miss! There you are! We wondered where you had gotten to-" Letting her attention stray away she looked back to the man with the cart. His horse was a strong male, chestnut in color with flecks of black around his muzzle and hooves. Stepping around the still babbling man Molly led herself to the horse, running a hand down his velvet nose.

"Your horse is beautiful." Because really, there was nothing else to say to either of them. She turned her attention to her fields. A few trees with cherry blossoms stood tall and strong, shading the turnips buried deep in the ground. "But I have work to do. This place needs lots of it." Turning away from the two of them, she examined the turnips, letting the coarse soil slip through her fingers. She'd need fertilizer eventually.

"So... you're keeping it?" The older man, Hamilton spoke. Letting her eyes find him again she stayed silent. Wondering why he wasn't gone.

"Had I not been willing to keep it I'd be gone already." She stood, eying the barn. Half of it wasn't actually caved in. But rotten boards were stacked against the side and half a sign covered the barn. Obviously it had been someone's ranch before. Walking over to the boards, she saw the rotted wood didn't extend to the wall of the barn and promptly kicked the boards away from the wall. As they hit the ground with a very soft sounding thud she bent over them. No hope of saving them. She looked behind her, "Why are you both still here?"

Both men started with shock and the unnamed man answered first. "I'm Cain. I run the animal shop down the ways," He gestured to the right, down a sandy beach path, "If you, uhh, need anything I'll be, uhh, down thata ways." He nodded to Hamilton, "Mayor." Then was gone, clicking his tongue and letting the horse lead the way down the path to the village.

"Mayor, huh?" She wondered if she sounded as sarcastic as she felt she did.

"Yes, and you are?" His voice squeaked and was rather high for a mans.

"Your new rancher." She let her eyebrow raise and his eyebrows furrowed. He took a long look at her before walking over and wordlessly handing over a bag that rung out as the contents shifted.

"Some tools to help you on your first year." He looked like he wanted to say more but didn't know how to start. "I'll leave you to it, but, if you need any help just stop by the town hall." With that he nodded and continued after Cain, to the village.

Letting her gaze fall to the tools, she frowned. They were heavy, made of a sturdy material, but there wasn't a hammer. The rocks on her field would need to be moved manually then, although the sickle would be a waste of energy. It'd be easier just to pull the weeds up-"Hey! You! We should go see the Harvest Goddess!"-then spend so much time on a heavy tool. Although, it would get her back into the swing of things. Literally.

As the sprite danced around her field of vision, Molly reached out and grabbed him. Once he was stuck in her hand she examined him. He was a lot different from the Red Sprite of her childhood. He looked more ragged as if he had seen harder days. His eyes weren't as bright or cheery as she was use to and the dark circles under his eyes had her wondering if Sprites even needed to sleep. She took in his rumpled appearance before letting him drop. He halted a few inches above the ground and wobbled before hovering back to be in her face.

Turning back to her fields she begun her first real days work in a long time. Fields cleared, crops watered, rotten wood thrown down in a pile away from her buildings. Soon enough all they stale hay was also in the pile along with the only incubator in the coop. Swept and wiped clean as best she could the coop and barn stood looking better than she assumed anyone had seen them in years. Looking around with limited sunshine about, she took back to the village. Clothes, she needed them. She'd burn the rotted wood and hay later.

Turning back to the cobblestone road she allowed her mind to wander as the Sprite hovered around her hair attempting to get her attention again. The bricks were close and very well put together. She wondered if they had just been re-done. No weeds sprouted up between cracks and the stones blended well with the white washed stone of the buildings in the village. Village because it wasn't really big enough to be a town, called "Harmonica" or not. As she crossed the bridge leading to the town hall the group of women outside fell silent.

Walking by them she heard someone mutter about a mess and was unsure if they were talking about the ranch or her. None-the-less the moment she saw the sewing needle sign she was in the store and grimacing at all the color. Really, nothing more muted than sky blue? The woman behind the counter was clutching over her heart and Molly almost walked into the girl in blue before realizing that she was there. Staring dead into the girls face she waited for one of them to speak. "I-I'm Candace." Molly let herself take in the blue-but-really-gray clad girl in front of her.

"Got any black?"


End file.
